"He is a capable soldier,” I protested.
Delventhal bestowed upon me a look most eloquent in pity and disdain.
"A capable soldier say you? An incapable fool would more fitly describe him. I even doubt his loyalty, Master Stoffel. Aye, as God lives, ‘twould not surprise me did he prove a traitor! And to think that at Moritzau this morning this insolent upstart should come to me and lispingly desire me to set out for Kreutzburg to inform its Burgomaster that on Wednesday next he will enter the town with his men. Beim Hölle, Master Stoffel, have I lived to carry messages to a gutter-bred Burgomaster?"
And Delventhal laughed an ugly laugh of self-derision, and would have proceeded to utter I know not what fresh invectives, when, gently commenting upon the lateness of the hour, I rose and spoke of bed.
I slept soundly that night, albeit the cloud of war hung over Sachsenberg, and it was late ere I awakened on the morrow. To my ears came wafted, from the street below, the stamp of hoofs, the champ of bits and the jangle of accoutrements, accompanied by a hum of voices, broken by occasional shouts—all betokening the presence of a vast company of mounted men.
Thoroughly awake I sat up in bed marvelling at the sounds I heard; then, driven by curiosity, I rose, and, hastily clothing myself, I made my way down the stairs.
Midway I came upon the host, ascending with blanched face, and legs that shook visibly under his portly body.
"Sir Captain,” he cried upon beholding me, “we are lost! The outlaws of the Falkensteig are upon us, led by that arch-devil, Andreas von Felsheim himself."
More he said, but I heard it not; for, with a speed born of the news he gave me, I had already reached the foot of the stairs, and thrown open the door leading to the main room of the inn.
Here I found my troopers crowding round the windows, and struggling among themselves to catch a glimpse of the scene in the street, whilst in the doorway stood Delventhal, alone, with arms akimbo, looking out. He turned as I entered, and between his brows stood two deep lines of anger.
"Beim Teufel, Captain Stoffel,” he exclaimed, “there are other enemies besides Leopold of Drüsdau against whom it seems that this poor kingdom must defend itself. Here is a ruffianly horde of bandits come, no doubt, to plunder Steinau, as it plundered Meiningen a month ago."
Crossing to where he stood, I beheld, through the crowd of scared citizens that had gathered in the streets, a long line of armed and mounted men numbering at least twelve score, whose fierce, uncouth and lawless air was well calculated to strike dismay and terror into the little township.
They were drawn up as if waiting some command, and presently, as I watched them—with vast curiosity, and also some dismay—there rode up to the very door of the inn a cavalier in burnished corselet, and a great, plumed hat—as gallant a figure as ever bestrode a horse. This courtly person was none other than Andreas von Felsheim, the dread outlaw of the Falkensteig, whose head was valued at the enormous price of five thousand crowns.
Upon seeing me, he greeted me with a friendly smile, and a flourish of his hat—for, though I was captain of the King's Guards, and he the leader of a lawless band of robbers, whose extermination the King had fruitlessly endeavoured hitherto to compass, yet we had been comrades once—he and I—and he had then rendered me a priceless service. Hence is it but natural that I felt a kindness for him, and that I fostered at times the hope that a day might come when I might in some measure repay the debt that lay between us.
Dismounting, and flinging the reins to one of his men, he advanced towards me.
"Well met, sir Captain,” quoth he, “I have news for you. I trust that I am not too late to find the noble Lord of Delventhal in your company?"
Before I could reply, Delventhal had thrust himself forward.
"What is your will with me, Master Felsheim?” he inquired in a surly tone.
"For once, my lord, I am not come to pillage, but to serve the King—and you."
Delventhal looked incredulous.
"Fine words,” he sneered. “What profit do you look to make?"
"The service I desire to do the State is of such value that I shall not be overpaid by the free pardon for past outlawry which I shall claim for myself and my company,” answered the bandit. “Nor will you, my lord, be paying me more than I shall have earned for the service that I am about to render you, by advancing my enterprise and interesting yourself hereafter to see that the pardon I speak of is meted out to me. Grant me a few moments’ conversation and you shall learn that which I have come hither to impart. Host, a flagon of Rhenish at yonder table."
He pointed out a table in a corner of the apartment and thither, at his invitation, we went and seated ourselves.
"My business touches you very nearly, my lord,” said Felsheim, filling his glass. “I learn that you have been appointed—I know not through what gross misconception of your deserts—lieutenant to the Count Bozenhardt, who, with three hundred men is to occupy the town of Kreutzburg and hold it against the rebel Duke Leopold. Am I rightly informed?"
Delventhal nodded.
"Your own loyalty to King Ludwig—whom God protect, although he loves me none too fondly—is well-known, my lord, and it is due to this that I am come to you to tell you that the man ‘neath whom you serve has sold himself and his levies to the Duke Leopold, and that you are assisting him to take possession of Kreutzburg, to hold it not for the King, as you imagine, but for the Austrian rebel."
Delventhal stared open-mouthed at the outlaw and the colour fled from his fat cheeks at the amazing news.
"Do you mean,” he gasped, when at last he had found his tongue, “that Bozenhardt is a traitor?"
"Aye, worse than that—he is such a traitor as Judas was, for he betrays his very master. I have been to Kreutzburg. Of all the cities in Sachsenberg there is none so full of treason. This much, my lord, you must know already. But something that I imagine you do not know, is that not only are the inhabitants for the most part adherents of Leopold, but the garrison itself—which is a hundred strong—and the very Burgomaster are in league with the rebel and have hatched a plot with the perfidious Bozenhardt which you, my lord, are blindly aiding them to carry out."
Delventhal grew crimson with suppressed excitement, and, bringing down his hand upon the table—
"Can you prove it, man,” he gasped, “can you prove it?"
"Yesterday morning,” said Felsheim, “when I had left Kreutzburg some three leagues behind me, I chanced upon a ruffianly snatch-purse who was rifling the pockets of a wretch whose head he had just cracked. He made off upon seeing me, and I dismounted to tend the wounded man. I unfastened his doublet to give him air, when a package lying next to his skin attracted my attention. I drew it out and with vast surprise I discovered it to be a letter addressed by Carl Greinitz, Burgomaster of Kreutzburg, to His Grace the Duke Leopold of Drüsdau, at Turgen, where the messenger was seemingly to have met him."
"Herrgott!" roared Delventhal, “you have this letter?"
For answer Felsheim drew a paper from his pocket, and spreading it out upon the table he presented it to Delventhal.
There followed a moment's silence whilst the nobleman perused the missive, then came a very storm of oaths, and Delventhal set the paper before me and bade me read:
My Lord Duke,
With the utmost respect and satisfaction let me inform Your Grace of the allegiance sworn to you by the inhabitants and garrison of Kreutzburg. The Count Arnold von Bozenhardt promises to join me within the week with a force three hundred strong. Once these are within the walls of Kreutzburg our gates will be closed until Your Grace comes to claim admittance.
Then came some well-chosen words of good augury and lastly the signature of Carl Greinitz.
I gasped in my amazement. The Count of Bozenhardt disaffected! Without such overwhelming proof as this letter furnished, I would as soon have believed the King himself attached to Leopold.
Amazed as I was, and grieved withal to have discovered such treacherous scheming, yet in
my heart I must confess to a certain rejoicing at the turn of events, for methought I saw Felsheim already pardoned and leading a new and honourable life.
"'Tis as the price of this information, Master Felsheim,” I ventured, “that you claim a pardon from the King for past misdeeds?"
"And,” cried Delventhal, “Biem Grabe, ‘tis but a seemly recompense for the service you have rendered the State."
"Not yet, not yet,” said the outlaw with a smile. “Knowing of your presence here, this letter suggested to me how the tables might be turned upon the Count Bozenhardt. ‘Tis for the execution of my plan that I have brought some three hundred men with me. For five years,” he continued with a touch of sadness in his voice, “have I led a lawless life, deriding the King and setting the State at naught. I have gone near capture more than once, but fortune has been kind, and I have escaped unhurt. Still my trade is a dangerous one, and like to have an unsavoury end. To-day I purpose to have done with it—to draw my sword for King and State, and strike a blow for the Sonsbeck Dynasty which shall earn me the pardon of a grateful prince. Listen, my lord; it is true, is it not, that you are on your way to prepare the town of Kreutzburg for the advent of Bozenhardt?"
"That is so, Master Felsheim."
"Then I propose, my lord, that you shall set out forthwith for Kreutzburg with your troopers as an escort, and carry out the mission upon which you were sent by Count Bozenhardt, as if naught had chanced since you parted from him. Only you will inform the treacherous Burgomaster that to-night at midnight—and not on Wednesday—Bozenhardt will reach the town. My men and I shall take the place of the Count and his force, and, under cover of darkness, we shall enter Kreutzburg in their stead; once inside the place we can laugh at Bozenhardt and all his rebels. What say you, my lord, shall I not have earned my pardon and that of my followers then?"
Delventhal was much smitten by the outlaw's plan, and loud and prodigal in his praises of it. The reason was not far to seek. It lay not in his loyalty to Ludwig so much as in his jealousy of Bozenhardt. He was jubilant rather at the discovery of the Count's treason and the thought of his approaching disgrace and defeat, than at the prospect of saving Kreutzburg from Leopold of Drüsdau. Also mayhap, he saw himself already covered with glory by the enterprise Felsheim suggested.
"To save any unnecessary trouble and blood-shed when the Burgomaster discovers how he has been duped,” said Felsheim, “it were well that you told him that Bozenhardt desires to effect his entrance secretly, and thus contrive that he does not turn his garrison out to meet us. Our success depends greatly upon taking them by surprise."
Delventhal agreed most heartily.
"Never fear,” quoth he, “I shall contrive that the garrison be abed when you arrive."
Then he filled his glass to the brim, and, getting on his feet, he toasted Felsheim and drank success to his undertaking and confusion to Bozenhardt. When that was done he grew impatient to set upon his errand. He ordered my troopers to make ready, and half-an-hour later he set out for Kreutzburg. Me he left behind to follow with Felsheim.
It was about an hour after sunset when Andreas von Felsheim mustered his bandits once more in the main street of Steinau, and when he had given the command we rode out of the township, much to the relief of the burghers, who could not understand their good fortune at having been visited by the Falkensteig outlaws without suffering violence.
We took the road to Kreutzburg at a good pace, and so well did we use our mounts that shortly after midnight we stood beneath the stout and ancient walls of the disaffected town.
At the Southern gate we found the drawbridge down, and in the shadows ‘neath the archway we could faintly discern a little group of waiting figures. ‘Twas clear from this and from the silence within those walls that Greinitz had obeyed Delventhal's injunction of secrecy.
Felsheim drew aside whilst his men rode over the bridge, headed by Gessler, his lieutenant. He followed in their wake with me beside him. In the open space within the gate we found the outlaws drawn up in order; a little in advance of them stood the Burgomaster, attended by half a score of pikemen with lanthorns swinging on their halberts, and a pert young officer. As we entered, Greinitz came forward and, scanning us closely, muttered the name of Arnold von Bozenhardt. He was a small grey-bearded man, who sought by the aid of ponderous armour and a great sword to lend an air of vigour and importance to his weakly frame.
He recognised me and saluted gravely—albeit methought I detected a light of wonder in his glance—then turned his eyes upon Felsheim, who was unknown to him.
"How come it, my master,” he said in a thin, quavering voice, “that I do not see the Count of Bozenhardt?"
"So!” cried Felsheim with a harsh laugh. “You are not likely to see him until you mount the scaffold with him, master rebel."
The Burgomaster drew himself up, stiff as a broom handle, and measured the outlaw with his eyes.
"I do not know you, sir,” he answered with calm dignity, “nor do I understand you."
"Perchance you will understand the hangman better."
"This to me!" gurgled Greinitz in a voice thick with passion. “This to me—Burgomaster of Kreutzburg!"
"Burgomaster no longer,” answered Felsheim, drawing a pistol from his holster and presenting it at the old man's head. “Yield you, Master Greinitz."
The harsh challenge and the sight of the weapon routed the Burgomaster's dignity and courage utterly. With a face white as milk and knees that knocked together he turned to Delventhal and besought him in trembling accents to explain why he was thus accused and to save his life.
"Your life we do not seek, Master Greinitz,” said Delventhal. “But you shall deliver up your sword and the keys of Kreutzburg. Your treason is discovered, and that of your accomplice, Arnold von Bozenhardt, and your letters to the Duke Leopold have been intercepted."
"'Tis a lie!” shrieked the little man. “I wrote no letters. ‘Tis some plot to seize the town, and you that are the rebels. Ho, there, pikemen! To the rescue!"
But his call came too late. Already a score of Felsheim's followers had surrounded the little force and demanded their weapons, which had been surrendered with that docility fear teaches men. Upon seeing this, the little spark of spirit that for a moment had actuated the Burgomaster was extinguished, and he became a craven pitiful to behold. The persuasion of Felsheim's pistol was too eloquent to be long withstood, and he meekly obeyed the outlaw's every order, though constantly protesting through chattering teeth that he was as loyal a subject of King Ludwig as could be found in Sachsenberg.
"Peace, fool,” thundered Felsheim at length, “and lead the way to your guard-house."
Without another word Greinitz did as he was bidden, and presently we stood before a large square building, situated at perhaps a hundred paces from the gate by which we had entered. Half-a-dozen men at arms came forth and stood staring at us, open-mouthed, as we drew near. Upon Felsheim commanding them to summon their officer they retreated into the house, and presently emerged again accompanied by a tall, stately man, whose looks betrayed the bewilderment wherewith the sight of our company filled him.
Succinctly Felsheim told him that the treason of Kreutzburg and its garrison had been discovered, and bade him go back and send out his men without weapons.
"Who are you?” the officer demanded.
"Beim Grabe!" blazed Felsheim. “Think you that I have journeyed hither to answer the questions of a rebel?"
There followed a fierce uproar, which ended in the officer's sudden discovery that he was disarmed and pinioned.
Lights were beginning to appear in the windows of the guard-houses, and also in those of the neighbouring buildings, and an alarmed crowd of hastily clad citizens was gathering in the street, attracted by the clatter of hoofs, the clash of arms and the sound of high-pitched voices.
Felsheim spurred his horse up to the door where the soldiers who had first emerged still loitered stupidly, and asked them what other officer they had bes
ides the two we had already arrested. There was, they answered, none other save a sergeant. Him, Felsheim ordered them to summon, and when the fellow came, he repeated to him the commands which his better had refused to obey. The sergeant proved more tractable, and utterly overcome by the outlaw's fierce assurance—given in a voice loud enough to be heard by all who stood about—that unless the men constituting the garrison of Kreutzburg consented to come forth disarmed one by one, from the guard-house, he would fire the building and give no quarter. Some parleying there was, but in the end the garrison surrendered, stupid as a flock of sheep, and hardly understanding what was taking place.
From the guard-house they went ignominiously to the town goal, escorted by a hundred outlaws under Gessler's command, whilst Felsheim turned his attention once more to the shivering Burgomaster, and bade him lead the way to the Rathaus, desiring Delventhal—who was in high glee at our achievement—and myself to accompany him and witness an act of justice. We went, preceded by a score of knaves, who cleared the way for us with the butts of their pikes through the crowd which had now grown to vast proportions—but timid and fearful as are such burgher crowds in the presence of armed men.
Once in the council chamber to which Greinitz led us, Felsheim was quick to settle matters with him.
"This treason hole of yours contains, I believe, some seven thousand inhabitants,” said he.
"Seven thousand five hundred,” corrected the Burgomaster.
Felsheim smiled darkly.
"So much the better. To save the town from the pillage it deserves you shall pay me the sum of fifty thousand crowns, which I shall deliver to the State Treasury towards the expenses of his campaign against your leader, Leopold the rebel."
Greinitz gasped.
"It is preposterous,” he cried. “You have no authority for this. ‘Tis an act of brigandage. Moreover, sir, all the trumped up story of our treason—"
"Master Greinitz,” broke in the outlaw, “I thought to have already made clear that I am not here to bandy words. You protest in vain; I have proof of your treachery."